


Rocking Away the Waves

by worldturtling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Domestic, Felching, Fluff, Lap Sex, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldturtling/pseuds/worldturtling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth asks Dean to find Benny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rocking Away the Waves

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know much about federal boat regulations but I won't tell if you don't.

“I’m worried about him, Dean, I mean I know what he did but…I know Roy- or Benny. He was sweet, I feel like I still know him,” she took an unsteady breath, “he was looking out for me.”

She expressed this all to him, her hands folded frail in her lap. He covered them with his own, tried to squeeze warmth back into her shaking fingers. He looked into her eyes and smiled for all he was worth.

“I’ll find him, Elizabeth.”

She returned a watery smile, and a breaking voice.

“Make sure he’s okay.”

He left after that, but not without gathering Elizabeth into his arms and squeezing tight for well past a few seconds first. She held on.

* * *

 

He does track Benny down, not twelve hours later. Benny may have been good for a fight, but he was shit at stealth and get away.

He told the old guy as much when he found him.

“Well maybe you could show me a thing or two about running, if you stick around long enough,” Benny drawled, reaching for the machete handle poking out of his bag while eyeing Dean’s weapon secured on his waist. Dean held his hands up.

“Not here to fight, just to talk.” Benny wrinkled his nose at him, but withdrew from his weapon reaching all the same.

“Talk about what?”

“Elizabeth sent me.”

“Now hold up, did you…?”

“ – Benny, there is no way I would shack up with your great granddaughter, man, c’mon.” Dean held up his hands higher, and Benny gave him a thoughtful look, then nodded. “Actually um, she called because she was worried about you.” Benny looked up immediately, and Dean sighed.  “I don’t know what she saw exactly but I’m sure she saw enough. She cares about you Benny. Says you looked out for her.” He couldn’t keep the fondness out of his voice, and Benny smiled back at him, before frowning again.

“I’ll have to write her a post card at the next port maybe. But can’t go back now, Dean. Not yet.” There’s a longing in his voice and Dean understood.

He took in their surroundings for the first time, a vacant shipyard, Benny’s crap ass deathtrap vehicle parked to the side of them.  They’re in front of a medium sized boat, not quite a yacht; it stands out amidst all the other large steel barges though.

Benny eyed him in a way Dean hadn’t felt looked at since purgatory.

“This is the vessel I planned to run on, if you must know.”

“Safer than that thing you call a car?”

“Safer than your pretty ass,” Benny quipped. “Want a tour?”

He helped Dean onto the boat first, without Dean asking him to, steadying his waist as he jumped over, before following and landing with a solid thud behind Dean.

Benny showed him into the cabin immediately in front of them, and Dean spotted the thin mattress bed covered in a sheet.

“What about your brother?” Benny was right against his back, closing the door behind him. Dean hadn’t moved much past the entrance; he didn’t think he wanted to. He shuddered and his heart jumped when he thought of Sam, Sam’s angry voice, the way Sam had cut off anything Dean could have said with a dial tone. Benny’s thumbs hooked into his belt loops and nudged Dean closer against him. Benny hushed him with a calming sound and Dean closed his eyes, felt Benny’s hands touch carefully against his sides, face pressed mouth closed against the back of Dean’s shoulder. They traced their way to Dean’s front, palms carefully encompassing Dean’s stomach and then chest, fingers coming together at the first button on Dean, the second and the third until he can ruck Dean’s t-shirt up and place an icy cold palm against his navel. Dean’s stomach growled.

“When was the last time you ate anything, Dean?” Benny mumbled in his ear.  Dean’s face felt hot and he pulled away, Benny’s hands let him go with ease. Dean’s stomach clenched but it might have also been hunger - he wasn't sure.

Benny was following him and before he could say a word, took off and placed his coat on Dean's shoulder.

“I’ll fix us up something. Make yourself at home.”

Dean scrutinized him but Benny just winked back.

“Fix you up a proper meal. After all you visited my diner and didn’t even get to taste my cooking, doesn’t sound too fair.”

Dean figured he could have made a comment about how Benny had never tried the red food cooking inside Dean either, but dropped into silence instead with the feeling of the heavy wool coat on his shoulders. He reached down and managed to untie his boots and pushed them off, then found his way to the center of the hard mattress, scooted until he could lean against the wood wall behind it comfortably. He pulled the coat around him and even buttoned it up, not like he was cold before but he liked the feel of it. Strange for a vampire to be wearing something so warm, Dean though, and he wondered if vampires felt the cold too. Maybe it was just another way Benny tried to blend in.

Dean watched Benny work, his suspenders stretched around his broad shoulders moved with Benny around the little kitchenette steps away from the bed.

“What’s a vampire doing with human food? No offense,” Dean added sheepishly as he saw Benny fiddle with the stove and find something in the cabinet. He brought a pan onto the metal plate with a clang.

“Regulation, Dean. Canned goods on every life vessel with living accommodations. There are life vests under the bed in case of emergencies, take one for yourself if you need to.”

Dean didn’t expect that, looked down and saw how the bed was propped up on some sort of hollow compartment structure.

The idea of Dean staying hadn’t been touched on more than in thought and Dean tried not to think about his brother speeding down highways to get to them as Dean sat and basked in Benny’s bed and coat and watched the vampire cook a hot meal for him. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he watched someone make anything for him.

Well, no, he remembered Cassie, and the cherry pie. She’d let Dean have a taste of the filling before pinning his hand to the table and taking the pie away and into the oven. Then she’d sit on him with her apron still on, marked with flour, her hands still sticky with brown sugar and left over dough pressing onto his shoulders, and cleaning the cherry red filling on his lips with her soft mouth. Dean sighed at the brief memory, and didn’t allow the bitter ones that followed after, the scene in her bedroom, the finalized words in her doorway. He watched Benny cook with the moonlight streaming in through the window over the stove, and the scene felt like an inversion of a good memory, maybe in a way that Dean would be allowed to experience sustainably.

Benny turned and his white shirt was dirty with gray and brown spots, Dean noticed. But he had a green plastic bowl in hand, (Dean wondered if that was regulation too), and in it…

“Soup?”

“Beef stew. Vitamins, minerals, good for ya, and tasty; or so the can read,” Benny said when he got over on Dean’s right and sat on the edge of the mattress. He still had his boots on. He looked like he was still working, like he wasn’t even in his own home. Dean took the bowl and the spoon Benny held underneath it. Benny watched him take the food and Dean sensed he was expected to eat right away. Dean took a spoonful, and his stomach was very satisfied with the taste and the heat.

“Good,” he said around a mouth full of preserved and salty beef and carrots, and shoved more in because he couldn’t actually stop devouring once he started apparently, and his stomach and his body and his mind was telling him more. He didn’t remember being hungry, didn’t remember when he was last hungry. But he remembered the taste of food now.

It was all gone but he didn’t register that until Benny noted on it.

“Want me to make you some more?”

The apples of Benny’s cheeks were round and enjoying the sight of Dean. Dean self-consciously licked the corner of his mouth for any residual juice before clearing his throat. The weight of what he just ate was beginning to settle low in his stomach, hot good food that filled him up.

“I think I just ate enough for two,” he groaned, and Benny took the plate from him with a grin. Before he left to put it away, Dean gripped onto his shirt and tugged him in. Benny didn’t resist, allowed Dean to bring him down and Dean wanted to feel how Benny tasted.

Benny groaned this time.

“I can suck you off,” Dean murmured into his jaw, let his warm lips brush over Benny’s bristly beard through to the skin.

“Dean, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Benny moved his face to bend down and capture Dean’s lips again this time for a more thorough kiss. Dean probably tasted like the stew Benny had just cooked for him. But Benny tasted interesting, coppery and salty and a little bit of whiskey, enough to make him think he knew what brand to get Benny during their next unlikely get together. Dean angled his body and moved his legs around until they were around both of Benny’s knees, pressed his thighs against Benny’s and arched up into the kiss. Benny towered over him like this, kneeling before him, and when his hand gently clamped on the back of Dean’s neck, Dean expected to be pushed down.

What he did not expect was the other hand to grab onto where his hip met his thighs and use hidden strength Dean had only ever seen him use to kill monsters while saving Dean, on Dean, to turn him full body and land him diagonally flat on the bed. Benny had to adjust his position and Dean had to regain his breath, but when they both resettled, Benny’s body was covering his, and he was nuzzling and kissing the space behind Dean’s ear and Dean distantly noted the green bowl on the floor, spoon a few inches away from it.

“You don’t owe me anything, Dean. Don’t need payment for a cooked meal.” Benny’s mouth was close against Dean’s ear, and then he punctuated his statement with a chaste kiss to the side of Dean’s temple, before he pulled away.

Dean looked up, and saw Benny inhabiting his former place at the center of the bed, against the wall, smirking at him playfully. The corner of Dean’s lip tugged itself down. He got his limbs back in control, awkwardly onto his knees, and kneed across the bed to be in front of Benny. Benny’s knees brushed against his sides lightly but didn’t touch. Benny smiled up at him, his eyes were sparkling like Dean was amusing him. Dean felt challenged.

He unbuttoned the coat on his body, not taking his eyes off of Benny, and he didn’t remove the coat either. Instead he took Benny’s icy cold hands from the mattress into his own, and brought them up slowly until they nestled just under his layers of shirts.

“You should warm yourself up,” Dean suggested, urging the hands up until Benny’s fingers were moving up of their own accord, touching the bare skin of Dean’s sides and holding into the pudgy part a little less than gently. Dean’s breath hitched, and the hands softened their grip. Dean shook his head though, and Benny watched him and squeezed the skin again.

Dean’s palms framed Benny’s face, thumbs stroking just under the corners of his lips, and he leaned in again, ran his tongue over his salty bottom lip and traced it before licking himself in and making himself at home. Benny’s hands squeezed tighter on him, like a lifeline, and Dean rocked his hips against him, his hands finding and fingers deftly removing the straps of his suspenders from the bulky part of his shoulders. But Benny refused to move his hands from his waist, and Dean had to pry them apart at the wrist, only being able to do so once he made eye contact with Benny, who nodded. Benny let go and let his suspenders be tugged apart, Dean took it a step further and took off his dirty shirt.

“I can wash it for you later if you want.” Dean kissed the corner of Benny’s mouth, and Benny’s hands returned to find their grip on the flesh of Dean’s hips. Dean ran his hands briefly over the broad chest under him, fingers scratched through the curls and he noted little hidden drawings in ink underneath. Benny sighed a shaky sound and kissed up Dean’s neck, one of his fingers leaving Dean’s waist to find the button of Dean’s jeans. Dean’s hands held onto the expanse of Benny’s shoulders as Benny maneuvered his fingers into Dean’s underwear enough to brush the tip of his cock and run over the sides of it. Dean shuddered in Benny’s arms when he pulled it out, and watched when Benny stuck the tip of his thumb in his mouth.

 He took it out, licked his lips with no smile, eyes on Dean hungrily again. Maybe it wasn’t too late for Dean to make that food joke. He still didn’t. Benny’s hand was on him again, pressing and making Dean squirm in his arms, the grip on his hips keeping him moving against Benny’s chest and making Dean pant openly into Benny’s bare shoulder.

Together they worked on Dean getting out of his pants and underwear, and Dean even unbuttoned and pulled Benny out, so close to moving down before Benny gripped his shoulder and stopped him.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” Dean said in a quiet, almost desperate plea, in the face of Benny’s heavy breaths for self-control. Benny closed his eyes, swallowed, and opened them. He nodded.

Dean was quick and got the lube from his back pocket, opening the packet and wetting the fingers on one of his hands. His bottom was bare, but Benny’s thighs were still covered in his pants and the rough fabric against Dean’s thighs sent sparks up his spine. A secret thought wondered how it would feel if his legs were shaved.

He leaned forward and braced a hand on Benny’s shoulder. He arched his back, spread his legs wider apart and got two fingers into himself, no preamble. He took a shuddering breath and tried to spread and get as much lube into himself as possible. He moved to pour more on his fingers and then went back to between his cheeks. A brief glance at Benny told him he should speed it up, for both of them.

“Condom?” Dean’s breath escaped harshly, and Benny took a moment to respond, words hard for him too.

“Somewhere, probably. Can look.”

Dean shook his head; he wanted to be fucked now. After three fingers and the rest of the lube packet, he crawled onto Benny’s lap. His naked thighs made a V shape on Benny’s waist, and Benny’s thick erection, ready and shiny with precome, kissed the side of his own.  

Dean took a fortifying breath, repeated an earlier movement and took Benny’s hands in his own, placed them on his waist. Benny’s hands dug and squeezed, and Dean suddenly felt shrouded in Benny’s large and bulky coat. But it felt right, smelled like him, and Dean wanted to smell like him right now, wanted to smell like escape and the sea and spices and things not complicated.

He felt the head nudge, and he remembered how to do this and took it slow, though he hadn’t in a long while. The flare of the head went first, and Dean concentrated on the way it tugged and pulled on his rim as he teased it in and out, thighs already burning from the muscle work of holding himself poised, but he enjoyed the sensations. He looked down and Benny was watching him, panting and bare, with bright blue eyes regarding Dean like he was something strange and unreal.

He thrust down finally, took the thick girth of Benny in full, sharp burn pulling an “oh god” moan out of his chest. He felt the curls of Benny’s public hair against his balls, as well as the rough fabric of Benny’s pants. He wanted to feel it forever, full and stretched, he thought. But he looked down at Benny’s face and decided to move. He rocked his hips down on Benny’s cock, Benny’s hands not moving from their station like he needed to tether Dean. He was getting hotter in Benny’s coat, but Benny’s hands were still cold against him and it balanced out.

“You could come with me.” Benny’s voice was low pitched and Dean almost didn’t hear it under the sounds he was making whilst fucking himself on Benny’s lap.

“What?” his throat was dry, but his spine was warm and it was possible Benny’s dick didn't feel as cold as before.

Benny’s hand felt less cool as well when it circled gently around his cock, tugging slowly with Dean’s thrusts.

“Could come with me. Sleep in my bed. I can cook for you.” The words melted out of Benny in rough melodic tones that blend with Dean’s tiny labored pants and breaths, and Dean closes his eyes. “This could be your home.” His hand on his waist moved down, started to kneed Dean’s ass, and his hold on his cock was getting firmer. Dean nearly skidded to a halt on Benny’s dick at the sensation of Benny’s hand playing with his bottom, but he regained senses quickly and swallowed the feeling down, rolling with it. He liked it.  “Uou could  warm my bed if nothing else,”

“Clean,” Dean heard himself rasp out.

“Aye, you could keep this ship tidy. I’ll keep you warm, safe. It’d be good for you.”

“Fuck, Benny…” Dean didn’t know how to follow that, felt a sob tearing at the back of his throat. Benny hushed him, continued kneading his ass and then thrust up hard into Dean, and Dean felt all the nerves from his back to his shoulders light up. Benny thrust up roughly again, meeting Dean’s thighs moving down onto his lap. He rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock gently, contrasting the rough measured pushes into Dean’s body.

Dean lost it and came warm, spurting all over Benny’s hand and himself. He rode it out on Benny, orgasm felt fucking great when squeezing around his cock.

Benny’s thrusts became erratic, long and hard. One, two, three, one for each labored breath that got dragged out from Benny’s chest, and then Benny held Dean’s hips down on him as he came and came and came inside of him with a groan that sounded like his name.

He pulled Dean down to his mouth and kissed him hard and rough and salty and everything that thrilled Dean. Except Dean’s cock was sort of out of commission now, and his body was limp and he was pretty sure his legs wouldn’t stand even if he had a werewolf chasing him.

So that’s where Benny’s handling came in, after he seems to get the picture that Dean would be perfectly content to lie slumped against his chest with dick still in ass for the remainder of the evening. He cradled Dean’s head and moves him around until he was laying gently on one of the pillows he hadn’t really noticed before.

“Did I tire you out already?” Benny’s voice was scratchy, and Dean wasn’t sure how to close his legs so the breeze wouldn’t hit him where he was wet and sloppy with come.

Dean thought he might have a response, but was too exhausted and bone weary to move his lips. Instead he whined when Benny’s bearded mouth started kissing down his navel.

“Don’t worry darlin’, not a brute here.” He kissed the top of Dean’s thighs and Dean trusted him, even outside of his hazy state he trusted in Benny’s self control. The vampire had him wanton and lust crazy trapped over his lap, he could have taken a bite at any time. Dean probably would have let him, but he’d rather not think about that.

His tongue was rough when it licked the crease where Dean’s leg became his crotch, and Dean halfheartedly attempted to spread them more. Benny chuckles, and Dean flushes.

“Want to get acquainted with something.”

Dean kind of grimaced at the thought, but then found it weirdly hot, when Benny’s nose poked behind Dean’s balls and his mouth circled and made a suction ring around where he was just inside Dean. His beard scratched against Dean’s thighs and somehow they found the strength to come together and hug onto Benny’s head. Loosely. Benny encouraged it, shouldered them over his back and Dean feels spread out and more like a meal than he’d be if he offered Benny to bite him. A slurping sound echoed around the room and Dean suspected Benny might actually be remembering blood bags. Dean shuffled his sore ass against the bed and winced, leaned his head back, and closes his eyes.

-

It was morning when Dean woke up next. Benny had removed his clothes and shirts the night before, carefully, and then pulled a giant quilt out of nowhere.

(“We’re dirty,” Dean had mumbled.

“I made you clean enough, don’t worry.”)

He had shucked off his boots and pants too, before lying on the bed and curling his arm around Dean’s waist. For the life of him, Dean couldn’t move from lying flat on his back.

Shirtless, Benny had run his thumb over the sea green tattoo, skirted the handprint, but he hadn’t stared. He bared his own chest to Dean for Dean to see the anchor tattoo buried under his hair on the left plane of his chest. It was simply done in the same sort of sea green as Dean’s. Dean’s fingers traced the one on his right side. Benny took his hand in his own, told him it was a north star, to never be lost at sea.

Dean woke on his side, however, the morning bright in his eyes despite the curtains. He was alone in bed, but Benny’s coat took Benny’s place. He shifted his legs and coughs out a laugh at the friction pain when his thighs rubbed together. His muscles ached and he was pretty sure he would be dead to the world today in that sort of meltingly good pain after a good night of fucking.

Except it wasn’t even a whole night. It was maybe thirty minutes of him riding Benny and then about a fucking hour of him nearly passed out and making strange vulnerable noises while Benny ate him out like he was a girl and gingerly caressed Dean’s balls while blessedly ignoring his oversensitive cock.

Then another hour of just god knows what, talking and looking into Benny’s eyes and loose scattered butterfly kisses to Benny’s shoulder while Benny stared at him in that way Dean felt like Benny was seeing something he didn’t understand.

“Hey, you’re awake.” Benny walked in through the door, and Dean closed his eyes to it then opened them up. Benny is wearing sunglasses and his hat, carrying a bag.

“I’ll fix you up a real southern breakfast you won’t even believe.”

Dean puts a hand over his stomach is surprised to be hungry again.

“I’m having trouble believing a lot of things,” Dean’s morning voice croaked, and he rubbed at his face.

“It’s a little chilly this morning, by the by.” Benny removed his sunglasses and hat.

Dean carefully sat up and put on Benny’s coat again, it alone. He left it unbuttoned.

Very quickly the small cabin smelled like eggs and rich food and Dean's mouth watered for the plate Benny finally turns around to serve him with.

“You gonna come to the table?” Benny asked with a grin and a quirk of his brow, and Dean clutched at the sheets around his waist and grimaced at the idea of moving, let alone sitting on the hard wood bench in front of the table structure near them.

“Do you have a sadistic streak I didn’t know about?” he leveled back.

“No, I don’t,” Benny assured him in a too sincere and upfront sort of way that made Dean’s stomach churn. Maybe it was a little too early for bedroom tastes honesty hour. He wondered how Benny would view his. Benny took the food to him and sat close next to his side. He kissed Dean’s cheek when he handed him the plate of food, and the smell banished any bad thoughts from Dean’s mind. Benny paused in his grin though, and looked thoughtfully at him.

“How do you feel?”

Dean looked at him with his mouth full of eggs, embarrassed at how he pictured his face to look, and tried to swallow it down quickly.

“This is really good,” he managed to say around a full mouth. And luckily Benny didn’t seem disgusted by Dean’s eating habits, but in fact put his hand on Dean’s lower back and started scratching up comfortingly.

Dean shrugged.

“It burns but it’s a good burn. Haven’t had a night like that in a while. Thank you.” Dean turned and Benny kissed him, licking maple syrup from the corner of his mouth.

“do you mind if I…” Dean looked to see Benny holding a blood bag out from an open cooler next to him. Dean nodded and tried to smile encouragingly.

“I mean it’s weird because you’re a vampire and I’m sleeping with you and you drink blood but I mean it’s still cool? I don’t know – I mean - yeah. Your house, right?”

Benny chuckled at Dean's stuttering reassurance and slurped through the blood bag straw like it was a sippy cup. Dean tried to be cool about it and not weirded out. It was actually more normal this time around.

“It’s alright Dean. If it makes you uncomfortable I can do it outside.”

“Dude n- motherfuck, ow.” Dean turned around without thought so quickly and immediately regretted the combination of chafed skin and muscle soreness that retaliated against him when he did that.

Benny looked faintly amused.

“You okay, brother?” Dean felt more sobbing noises of pain wanting to come out but he choked them back.

“Yes,” he insisted, then looked Benny dead in the eye, “actually, I think I do want to stay with you.” Benny regarded this skeptically and Dean continued before he interrupted, “For a week maybe, or a month at most. I just kind of need a break, man. I mean, if you’ll have me.” He breathed in, “I kind of come with some baggage. Random demon attacks at any time, possible monsters who have a vendetta against me, I piss off any witch we’ve ever met so -”

“Dean,” Benny interrupted him and Dean’s mouth shut with a snap. Benny had a soft look on his face, and his palm came up to lie against Dean’s face. Dean unconsciously leaned into it, despite the lack of warmth it offered. “This can be your home for as long as you want it, sweetheart.”  Benny’s voice was soft and full of promise and warm enough for both of them, Dean thought.

Dean nodded and held the hand against his face. Benny smiles into his mouth.

* * *

 

A few weeks later Dean was waiting in a telephone booth, the only one in this town. All his cellphones were dumped in the Impala. He’d go back for them later.

“Hello?” A soft voice came on the line and Dean smiled.

“Hey, Elizabeth,” he greeted, and winked at Benny behind him. Benny rolled his eyes, hands in his coat.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” Dean sobers.

“It’s uh, it’s Dean. Winchester. You called me a few weeks ago?”

“Dean, oh god, I’m sorry, have you, uh, is Roy..”

“He’s with me, Elizabeth, and he’s fine. He’s held it together. I’m guessing you got his post card already?”

“Yes, I’m just…is he there?”

“I’ll put him on in a minute. Just, listen, I know it’s probably been rough on you, you don’t know what you saw maybe, and I promise I’ll-“

“Dean you’re a real sweetie, but could you just put my damn grandfather on the phone?” She interrupted him briskly and he froze.

“She’s asking for you,” he turned to Benny and Benny’s face lit up with hope.

Dean walked back to the boat and made himself some coffee. Then he sat around and picked up one of Benny’s books.  

When Benny returned, he kissed Dean hard and long, took the coffee mug out of his hands and placed it on the floor, and hefted Dean up.

“She says she’ll have a whole pecan pie for you next time you swing around.” Benny told him, “and that the blood bags are already in the freezer for me.”


End file.
